







• 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 






©ijHp* ©xip^rig^t Ifxu 

• 






UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






- 





FOOTPRINTS 



OF A PILGRhM 



IN THE 



Whatso 







BY 



y 



Mrs. A. E. Bennett, jf co/^v 

30 







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f 

^t^ 



PHILADELPHIA: 

George W. McCalla. 

1895. 








Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 
1895, by G. W. McCalla, in the office of the 
Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 



PREFACE. 

TT is with feelings of abasement that 
-*• I come before the public in this 
capacity. I have long felt that some- 
time I should record in a consecutive 
way God's gracious dealings with me. 
How, or in what way /I knew not, and 
so left it, with the feeling, that if it 
was Divinely ordered, it would be 
brought about in His way. Still my 
friends often urged that I thus take up 
my pen. 

But under the pressure of cares and 
4 ( labors more abundant, J ' I saw no way 
of so doing, nor could I until it was 
given me. 

When God's time came it was in 
such an unlooked for way. that I re- 
coiled wholly from it. The publisher 
of this little work wrote to me, asking 
permission to use some of my articles 



IV 

previously given to the public. At 
first I felt I could not allow my little 
writings to come thus before the pub- 
lic. But as I devoutlv laid the matter 
before the Lord, he showed me that it 
was not my little writings at all that 
was wanted ; but that His gracious 
dealings with me, should be used as 

a help to others. I saw it, and was 
humbled. 

I then gave my permission, and re- 
quested the publisher to send me such 
articles as he had chosen, so that I 
mio'lit revise them. When they came 
I felt no liberty to touch them. They 
were each a simple statement of some 
new experience born along the lines 
of conflict ; and upon the arena of life's 
battlefield. So I returned them to him 
as they were. 

And I trust as these pages are pe- 
rused, that the writer will be lost sight 
of, and only the Divine tracery seen. 

A. E. B. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Introductory vii 

Hidden recesses i 

The transposed scale 7 

Losing and finding 9 

Treading the wine-press 13 

The "whatsoever state" 18 

Onward steppings 22 

Suffering with Him 25 

Beauty on the ash-heap 30 

The holocaust 35 

The two sponges 44 

Mortifying the flesh 49 

Life out of death 53 

Currents and counter-currents of life .... 55 

Walking with God 62 

"Beauty for ashes" 65 

Perfecting of the saints 68 

Concerning temptation 76 

Fruit bearing 80 

Without wish, or preference 81 

Rightly dividing the Word 83 

Blessings of darkness 88 



" There's never a rose in all the world, 

But makes some green spray sweeter ; 
There's never a wind in all the sky, 

But makes some bird's wing fleeter ; 
There's never a star but brings to heaven 

Some silver radiance tender, 
And never a rosy cloud but helps 

To crown the sunset splendor ; 
No robin but may thrill some heart, 

His down-like gladness voicing, 
God gives us all some small sweet way, 

To set the world rejoicing." 



INTRODUCTORY. 



A CHAPTER FROM MY EARUER EXPERIENCE. 

TV /TEMORY stretches over a lapse of 
±\±- y ears since first I gave my young 
heart to God. The first sixteen of 
which, with its varied phases, I will 
pass lightly over. Suffice it to say, 
that sometimes I would tread the nar- 
row way, then my feet would slip into 
some by-path which led me far from 
the cross of Christ. 

The next seven Years furnish a dark 
picture. The cruel monster, Death, 
entered my home, and in two years a 
kind husband and three lovelv child- 
ren were laid low bv his merciless 
power. With idols smitten, hopes 
blasted, and heart crushed, I went 
forth from my once happy home alone! 



Vlll 



How bitterly was that word engraven 
in burning characters upon my soul ! 
How I writhed under those heavy 
strokes, and rebelled against God. I 
fully appreciated poor Mrs. Job's feel- 
ings when she told her husband to 
"curse God and die." 

With too much pride to let people 
know how much I suffered, I would 
hide those dark depths of suffering 
and rebellion beneath a smiling face; 
yet my most intimate friends, know 7 - 
ing the facts in the case, in spite of 
my high head and defiant mien, would 
sometimes tender me their pity. But 
my proud heart, bleeding at every pore 
would not accept anything which sa- 
vored of sympathy. On one occasion 
one of my dearest friends, my pastor's 
wife — said to me : u My husband and 
myself sympathize deeply with you in 
your sad bereavement. We pity you 



IX 

much."" I replied: t4 I do not want your 
sympathy. I scorn it. I scorn pity 
from anv source. If vou have no sen- 
timent but pity, don' t offer me that, for 
I hold it in contempt." My looks and 
tones, inspired by the same fearful 
pride, confirmed my woe. She sweetly 
replied : "We have other than pity — we 
love vou much." I said: U I will ac- 
cept your love — your pity I scorn." 

The yearning of my heart, like the 
tendrils of a vine, were continually 
reaching forth for something around 
which thev mi^ht entwine themselves; 
for I had not vet learned that there 
was a fullness in the Gospel of Christ 
to satisfy every demand of the human 
soul. My heart and mv flesh cried 
out, not for the living God, but for 
my dead idols. I literally worshipped 
at the shrine of the dead, spending 
hours among my graves, prostrating 



myself upon them, begging God to 
let me die. Life was such a burden 
it seemed I could endure it no longer. 

But has not this dark picture any 
brighter shades, any relieving tints, 
any blue skies? Yes, there were oc- 
casional rifts in the clouds, from which 
gleamed some sweet promise of God; 
under its genial rays my pride, rebel- 
lion, and the clinging of my nature, 
would melt and yield sufficiently to 
bring me some consolation of the Gos- 
pel. Then I could endure for a little 
time the intensity of furnace fires. 
But soon they would begin to scorch, 
and again I would charge God with 
injustice and partiality. With my 
face to the floor, I would say : u Oh, 
God, thou has broken and cast down 
all that was dear to me, Thou hast 
smitten my idols, now smite me." 

These terrible scenes lasted gener- 



XI 

ally from one to two hours, when the 
tempest spent its fury, and I was calm 
ao:a.in. I would then bathe mv face, as- 
sume a smile, and go out into the 
world, none dreaming what a terrible 
tempest I had been through. But 
some of my keen-eyed friends would 
discern the fearful under-current, and 
kindly whisper: u The Lord lovetli 
whom he chasteneth." I said : "Don't 
talk that to me, I do not believe it, if 
the Lord loved me he would never 
torture me like this." 

I saw no reason why I should suffer 
thus. I prayed God to show 7 me why 
he dealt thus bitterly with me. After 
a time He began to mirror to my view 
my real condition. Little by little 
He unveiled the interior of mv heart 
and showed me rnvself. And O, what 

j 7 

a spectacle! What depths of depravi- 
ty ; what pride and rebellion. I had 



xii 

oftentimes wondered : If I was a child 
of God, why was my soul the thea- 
tre of these manv conflicts. When 
I looked into the deeper strata of 
my heart, I found the answer. I 
saw, too, in the Book of God, a page 
of Christian experience far in advance 
of me, and how was I to attain it, was 
the all absorbing question. I had 
been instructed to "work out my own 
salvation," so I set about it with bit 
and bridle, to curb this element of mv 
nature, and control that. But the 
first I knew some feeling of pride 
would possess me, and with a haughty 
toss of the head, I would give expres- 
sion to it. Then I would go before 
God humbly craving His pardon, 
wondering why he did not keep me 
when I so much desired it. I would 
then go on nicely for a little time, 
obeying God the best I knew how, 



• • • 

Xlll 

when suddenly I would be overtaken 
with another of those terrible tempests 
of rebellion and wounded idolatry ; 
and what I suffered in these, no hu- 
man being ever knew. 

Many times a day would my wretch- 
ed heart breathe its lonqino-s to God 
for deliverance, and for inward purity. 
I hardly knew why I prayed thus, for 
theoretically I did not believe in any 
distinctive feature in Christian experi- 
ence, denominated "purity or perfect 
love." But however crooked my 
theory, practically the needle was true 
to the pole, and I was instinctively led 
to the Who instead of the what for de- 
liverance. 

As I began to walk up to my light, 
more dawned. I saw the whole thing 
was summed up in two words : conse- 
cration and faith. Then came the 
tug of war. For months I prayed, 



xiv 

day and night, that I might be enabled 
to make a full surrender to God of all 
my powers. Some things would go 
011 the altar, and some would not. 
This struggle continued till Septem- 
ber, 1867, when my whole being was 
presented a living sacrifice to God. 
The things I had clung to became 
such a loathing to me, and I was so 
hungry for God, that it seemed I could 
not live without Him. Everything 
went on the altar. In just a moment 
the tempests fury swept past me and I 
entered into rest, and O, such a rest ! 
how much it meant to me. Mv strug- 
gles were all over and my conflict 
ceased. When I arose from my knees 
such a holy calm possessed me as I 
never knew before. 

Days and weeks passed, and still 
that rest continued. I had no emotion 
of joy, praise, or anything : it was just 



XV 

a dead calm — a perfect rest, a sense of 
inward purity : my whole being seemed 
like a sheet of white paper, without a 
blot or stain upon it. My whole ex- 
perience was summed up in two words: 
Rest and Purity. How grateful was 
that experience to my poor heart ; just 
what I wanted — -just what I needed. 

Thus I w r ent on until October 21st 
when my consecration received a seve- 
re test. The last item of my conse- 
cratiou, that which was the hardest to 
get on the altar- — was the first to be 
tested. For two hours I was dumb 
before God, I could only look the mat- 
ter over, and weigh it in my newly 
adjusted scales. How the matter 
would turn I knew not. But I saw 
no will of my own in the matter, sim- 
ply suffering. At length I bowed be- 
fore God, and said from my inmost 
soul: u O, my God, this consecration 



XVI 

shall stand the test if I die in conse- 
quence of it. " I think I did not say 
another word. I had no sooner breath- 
ed that out, than such an avalanche of 
God's glory came upon me as I had 
never dreamed of. I was completely 
submerged and overshadowed with 
the Divine Excellency, I arose from 
my knees, wondering what had come 
upon me. And all night I lay so hid- 
den away in God, that I seemed to 
know nothing of earth. 

Nearlv all of the succeeding- dav I 
spent in my room alone w T itli God and 
lost in His immensity. What a dav 
that was to me! At night I retired 
early and slept like a babe in its moth- 
er's arms, which I had not done for 
seven years. How could I sleep dur- 
ing those wearisome days and nights? 
But the Rubicon was passed. I slept 
sweetly till the sun was up. When I 



XVI 1 

awoke the first thought was: a Ke giv- 
eth His beloved sleep." Every day I 
was so overpowered by the Divine 
glorv, that I could onlv kneel in silent 
adoration before God. I could not 
ask for anything more, for I did not 
want anything more. I often used to 
say: "Stay thy hand, Father, I can 
bear no more." 

How I loved seclusion with God. 
The presence of my best friends seemed 
an intrusion. My Bible was my con- 
stant companion. Its sacred pages 
would open up such hidden depths, 
and unfold so fully the lovelv charac- 
ter of my Divine Conqueror, that I was 
lost in wonder, love, and praise. Like 
a simple child (as I was), I would kiss 
the sacred Volume, and say : "Thy 
word O God, is sweeter to me than 
honey and the honey-comb. " Had 
any one asked me: u Do you ex- 



XVill 

pect ever to have any trials or temp- 
tations?" Such was my simplicity and 
ignorance that I should have answered : 
"No. " I thought my whole future 
would he one eternal noonday of God's 
sunlight. Having been kept in the 
furnace till I was purged from all the 
dross of my nature, as I thought, where 
was the need of further trials? I had 
not yet learned that it takes just as in- 
tensely heated furnace to test the gold 
as it does to purge it. I thought I 
stood complete in Christ, not knowing 
that it would require years of storm 
and sunshine, heat and cold, adversity 
and prosperity, for my character to 
take on completeness and maturity, as 
the sequel has proved. 

The long continued strain upon my 
nervous system, induced by bereave- 
ment and mental agony, had greatly 
impaired my health. But now I found 



XIX 

my health much improved under the 
new regime. I was soon able to return 
to the store, from which I had been ab- 
sent nearlv a rear. But how could I 
retain my newly found treasure and en- 
gage in business? My position in the 
score was a responsibe one, and would 
it not interfere with my abiding com- 
munion? Would not my intercourse 
with the public break this sweet spell 
which was over me so continual lv? I 
feared, not knowing the magnitude or 
permanence of the work wrought in 
me. I felt I would rather live in a 
prison-cell on bread and water all the 
rest of my life, with my indwelling 
Savior, than to engage in anything 
which would break his power over me. 

The Lord showed me that if he 
could save me so completely from in- 
dwelling foes, he could save me from 
outside influence. I entered upon my 



XX 

duties, and never did business so easily 
in my life. Everything seemed to go 
like a well regulated machine. My 
head and my hands did the execution 
without reaching my heart; as I walked 
to and from the store, the grass, the 
stones, and the side-walk, seemed to 
be all praising God. Indeed, my life 
was one complete doxolo°y. The very 
circumstances which had made me so 
miserable, though still existing, were 
attuned to my new condition, and all 
blended in one harmonious strain. 

This condition lasted many months 
before I knew anything of the cruci- 
fixions which have since come into my 
life, and as they began to manifest 
themselves, I have been shown the 
needs be for them, till I see nought 
but God's hand in it all. 



FOOTP^IfiTS 

OF A 

PILGRIM, 

IN THE 

WHflTSOEVEH-WflLtl^. 



HIDDEN RECESSES. 

'TT^HERE are hidden recesses in the 
■^ divine life where only God and the 
individual soul. commune ; where we 
are so shut up in Him, that nothing 
can touch us except through Him, and 
so solitary and alone are these steppings 
we are conscious of being taught direct- 
ly by Him. 

As we thus walk, how marvellous 
are the Divine manifestations. That 
God should speak so directly to us, 
surpasses anything we had ever before 
experienced. 

There are times when I am not per- 
mitted to read my Bible, to the end, 



2 

that He, the blessed Holy Spirit, may 
take some of the words therein written, 
and bring them unto me in a more 
direct way. As the state of my soul 
indicates a need, then they are truth, 
then they are life, beyond anything 
known in the more formal reading. 

I have been passing through strong 
testino's for manv months, until it seem- 
ed that the end must -be near, so great 
was the pressure. But it has been 
shown me lately, as never before, that 
we are often called to bear the states 
and conditions of others, that like the 
Master, we may be the better pre- 
pared to succor the suffering and sor- 



rowing ones. 



Humanly speaking, He could not 
succor or save to the uttermost on 
every point, except He first passed 
through the same. It became a neces- 
sity for Him to taste of every bitter 






cup, and bring Himself to our level, 
in older to lift us up from those same 
conditions. 

Thus it behooved Him to suffer in 
the flesh, in all of the phases of inte- 
rior crucifixion, passing through death 
upon all points, that we might be able 
to follow Him on those lines. To 
u follow the Lamb wdiithersoever He 
goeth," means more and more tons, 
as we advance in the regenerate life, 
and I am glad that it is His to lead, 
and ours to follow. 

To follow Him through reproach, 
denial of friends, through betrayal, 
and through false accusation without 
offering a word of self-vindication or 
explanation, but to walk in continual 
consecration to the cross of Christ, is 
but a small part of the following. It 
means much of plucking out right 
eyes, and cutting off right hands. Not 



4 

simply some unnatural protuberance, 
but something as dear to the heart, as 
the right hand to the body, and tender 
as the right eye. 

In the days of John Wesley, there 
lived among the miners of England, a 
gross, ignorant, wicked fellow, whose 
only affinity was his large bull-dog, 
whose pugilistic tendencies paralleled 
those of his master. They were both 
a terror to the people. To the sur- 
prise of all, the Spirit of God got hold 
of the man, and he became thorough- 
ly converted. He was appointed a 
leader over a class of Christian miners, 
and while he was being used very suc- 
cessfully in leading many to Christ, 
he was himself taking on growth and 
maturity, and of course was led 
through channels of crucifixion. 

One day some person was passing 
through a forest, and saw him dig- 



5 

ging a grave. Waiting, unobserved, 
to watch results, he saw him embrac- 
ing his dog very tenderly, and heard 
him say: "My dear, faithful friend, I 
have loved you long and much, but 
dear as vou are to me, you must die 
by my own hand, for I cannot let you 
come between the Lord and my heart. n 
After another affectionate embrace, 
the faithful creature died by the hand 
of his master, and was buried in the 
newly made grave. The self-sacrific- 
ing man went to his field of labor feel- 
ing that in plucking out the right eye 
he had removed the last substance 
which was likely to cast a shadow be- 
tween God and himself. 

Oh ! God, bring me there at any cost. 
I know it is a solitary way. The 
multitudes do not throng there, nor 
are little companies grouped along its 
isolated path. The church does not 



6 

walk there, nor do friends tread its 
narrow court, for it excludes earthly 
friendships, and every thing else that 
savors of the human. 

And with each varying phase of 
crucifixion and death, comes the being- 
taken farther, and still farther into 
the hidden recesses of the Divine, till, 
like the deeper symphonies of the sea, 
while the waves are dashing high and 
fierce above, fathoms below are divine 
harmonies and sweeter melodies than 
can ever be dreamed of from any other 
source. The rhythm and undulations 
of this music as they flow through the 
soul, quiet every power of the being, 
and only God is known. 

" In the heart of the sea 
There's a s}'mphoiiy sleeping : 

There is wafted to me 
From the heart of the sea 

A divine melody, 



7 
Mingled laughter and weeping ; 

In the heart of the sea 
There's a symphony sleeping." 



THE TRANSPOSED SCALE. 

M^HE primary lessons in singing 
■*- are in the natural. In it, are em- 
bodied all the rudimentals of a future 
course. In it, the pupil makes his 
most uncertain sounds, in it, he makes 
his first proficiency ; and in it, he bears 
away his first palm. 

But as soon as he becomes sufficiently 
familiar with these first principles, the 
scale is transposed, another key is in- 
troduced, the music is written on a 
little higher key, perhaps. The voice 
adjusts itself to the new key, and the 
practice commences. When lo ! as he 
begins to think himself an adept in 
this key, another transposition occurs 



8 

— another key still is introduced, upon 
which all his music lessons are written. 
The u incidentals" are new, besides 
some "accidentals '," perhaps, which 
may be a little humiliating to the 
pupil sometimes, nevertheless, they 
have their mission. 

Again the scale is transposed ; still 
another key is introduced with its in- 
cidental sharps, flats, and rests. The 
pupil eager to touch every note, in- 
advertantly sings a "rest*" when to 
his mortification he has produced dis- 
cord; the teacher then brings him back, 
drilling him on the change of tone 
thus indicated, as well as the no tone. 
And so the transposing goes on, 
getting farther and farther from the 
natural, till all the seven helps are 
reached. As he-advances the music be- 
comes more complicated. The key 
changes very abruptly ; also the time. 



9 
Rests of various lengths are introduced, 
alternating with notes of sound. 

When through a protracted course of 
discipline and practice he masters diffi- 
culties, becoming proficient in all of 
the transposed scales, so that he can 
render with ease any complex music, 
with any change of key, time, rhythm, 
or metre, he is even then perfected 
through practice : and as he still goes on 
his motto is: u Practice makes perfect." 

And as in the New Song, there is a 
full counterpart of all the distinctive 
features in the lesson. 



LOSING AND FINDING. 

"Jle that findeth his life, shall lose it : and he 
that loseth his life for My sake, shall find it. ' ' 

'TMie above sacred words were given 

-*- me very suddenly one day, some 

months ago : and with them came a 

beautiful hush of soul. I seemed ush- 



IO 



ered into the inner sanctuary of Divine 
life, and light, and love. Many days 
passed, and these words still floated 
through my soul like liquid music, 
with the rhythm and melody of a sweet 
song. I knew it meant much to me, 
but how much, was beyond my ken. 
I said many times during that Divine 
visitation, "I will lose my life, Father, 
on any point that Thou shewest me." 
In about two weeks, I was brought 
to a sudden and painful test. God in 
his providences, showed me a point, 
upon which I was to yield up my life. 
It was a very vital point, and I knew 
not how much so, until called to give 
it up. Then came a conflict between 
the flesh and the spirit. The spirit in 
its obedience, said: "I will yield up 
my life. I will lose it for His sake." 
Yet the flesh clung, insisting that I 
should give an explanation of circum- 



II 

stances, and that would bring about 
an amicable adjustment of matters. 
But a diviner Voice whispered : ( 4 That 
would be seeking to save your life." 
I replied: " Yes, Lord, I will lose my 
life. I will yield it up." Still the 
tenacious clinging of my nature would 
not let go ; and for ten or twelve days, 
my soul was a theater of conflict, till 
one day the conflict suddenly ceased. 
As the smoke and din of battle cleared 
away, I found I had lost my life on 
the point in question, and a new life 
had taken its place. The old hush of 
soul returned, and a spirit of gladness 
possessed me. I was so glad of the 
Divine manifestation first given me to 
prepare me for the contest, and glad 
for the requisition made upon that life 
so dear to me. Glad also, that God so 
graciously held me to the test, till the 
work was finished. Weeks passed and 



12 



that life came back to me, that which 
I had lost I found again. But Oh ! so 
changed, I scarcely recognized it; so 
pruned off and shaped anew it seemed 
like another life, which it was. The 
mixture of the human seemed gone, 
and I held it for God. 

Now I hold it for Him alone. Now, 
I know in a newer and a fuller sense, 
what it is to lose a life throbbing with 
the warmth of its vital forces, and find 
it again, thus proving how literally we 
may find what we lose for God. But 
so complete was the losing, that there 
was no desire for finding it, but whol- 
ly unsought, God graciously gave it 
back, sanctified and fit for the Master's 
use. And so all the way along, we 
can only know of the grand possibili- 
ties of the divine life, as we are push- 
ed bv the direst extremities. 



TREADING THE WINE-PRESS. 

A SHORT time ago, I dreamt I saw a 
strange looking, structure of lieavv 
timbers ; though most of it was under- 
ground, and could only be seen from 
one side, yet it loomed up very formid- 
ably and mysteriously. 

A dear minister of the Gospel (who 
is now deceased), called my atten- 
tion to the underground part of it. 
There I saw a large wine- vat out of 
which several persons were dipping 
the pure juice of the grape at whole- 
sale rates, with buckets and pails of 
various sizes, for the benefit of others. 
Above it lav a heavv timber horizon- 
tally, down which was trickling in tiny 
streams the crimson fluid which was 
yielding such ample supplies for the 
many. I o-azed in o-reat admiration and 
wonder that such life currents should 



H 

flow so freely with no visible pressure 
principle. Not understanding it I 
turned to go away, but under the power 
of its mysterious attraction, I turned 
back to gaze upon its strange workings. 
There I stood wondering where the 
heavy pressure so fraught with such 
grand results was, when I awakened 
w T ith a profound impression upon me, 
of what, I hardly knew. Immediately 
a soft, sweet voice whispered " I have 
trodden the wine-press alone ! " I rec- 
ognized the voice and the fact ; I said 
u Yes, Lord ; and what about it? What 
would' st Thou teach me in reference 
to it?" 

Soon He began to interpret it by 
showing me that Christ trod the wine- 
press alone, not only single-handed, 
but in secret silence. In his walks 
among men they saw his goodness and 
greatness, but thev knew not the in- 

O 7 J 



15 
terior process of crucifixion going on 
all those years. They knew not that 
all which pertained to His human was 
subjected to a continuous crucifixion 
(though He had never sinned). They 
saw the outward manifestation but 
knew not what it had cost, and was 
costing him. They afterwards saw 
him nailed to the cross in the exterior 
act of crucifixion; "then they knew it 
was attended with great suffering. 
But they knew not at what an expense, 
and how continuously the life current 
trickled from its warm fountain as it 
flowed into the great ocean of salva- 
tion, wherebv such mvriads receive 
Eternal Life. 

" For none of the ransomed ever knew, 
How deep were the waters crossed, 
Nor how dark was the night which the Lord 
passed through, 
Ere he found his sheep that was lost." 



i6 

He also showed me, that they who are 
committed to ' k follow the Lamb whith- 
ersoever he goeth," are taken over the 
same line. Interior crucifixion of the 
natural, till naught of ambition, taste, 
affection, wish or preference lives. 
The body and its lawful appetites and 
desires is brought under till the whole 
is crucified, and lives oulv in God. In 
all of these thev have died in the nat- 
ural, but so quickened in the spiritual 
that not an element of their character 
becomes annihilated, but quickened 
into Divine life till they only live and 
walk in God. Whereas they once 
craved human sympathy they now suf- 
fer in silence and alone. And as the 
Gethsemane experience of the Master 
was a part of his crucifixion, and there 
largely He trod the wine-press alone, 
so our Gethsemane experiences enter 
into our crucifixion also. And as 



17 
He passed through the crooked Via 
Doloroso (a street of sorrows), to the 
place of outward crucifixion, so we 
have to tread the same zig-zag way of 
sorrows, some times headed this way, 
and some times that, till we know no 
points of compass save that it is the 
royal way to the cross. 

After having thus with Him trodden 
the wine-press alone we are so emphat- 
ically ' 4 not of this world, ! ' we are not 
much sought after or enjoyed by others, 
unless they be hungry souls, or suf- 
fering ones ; and they can never know 
till they have passed through it, what 
it has cost us to be able to succor them. 
They know not to what an extent the 
corn of wheat has fallen into the ground 
and died that it may bring forth much 
fruit. 

u For we which live are alway de- 
livered unto death for Jesus' sake, that 



i8 

the life also of Jesus might be made 
manifest in our mortal flesh. So then 
death worketh in us but life in you. " 



THE " WHATSOEVER STATE." 

TDAUL learned in ( ' whatsoever state" 
he was "therewith to be content." 
An important factor in the case was, 
that he had to learn the lesson while in 
the u whatsoever state" and not in ad- 
vance of it. We can never learn a 
spiritual lesson until we come to it in 
our experience. In the u whatsoever 
state" of the thorn in the flesh, he ac- 
cepted obediently what he saw was in 
the Divine plan; and when he had thus 
accepted, he was so content therewith, 
that he would not have it otherwise. 
The next step was the u taking pleas- 
ure" in it, for he saw that through it, 
the power of Christ rested upon him. 



19 

In the " whatsoever state" of "stripes 
above measure," of " prisons more fre- 
quent," of "deaths oft," of "the Jews' 
thirty-nine stripes, five times," of being 
" beaten with rods," of "being stoned," 
of "being shipwrecked," of "being 
weary," of "suffering pain, hunger, 
cold, etc., etc.," he learned in each 
separate state, or under each circum- 
stance i ' therewith to be content. ' ' Had 
he rebelled against it, feeling that his 
lot was hard, it would have been a bar- 
rier to the real contentment which fol- 
lows close after we accept in God, the 
"whatsoever state, "or circumstance. 

We read the above list of Paul's suf- 
ferings, almost in a single breath, but it 
took him years to go through the differ- 
ent phases, or in speaking of it dis- 
connectedly, as the most events occur 
in our human life, he was years pass- 
ing through the "whatsoever states," 



20 

and learned his lessons one by one as 
they came due. "O," you say, u that 
stretches over such a number of years, 
I want to learn quicker, and be made 
perfect sooner. ' ' Hold on, dear friend, 
everything in the spiritual life as in 
the natural, is subject to the laws of 
growth and development, and every- 
thing comes in its own order and time. 
Paul could not learn to be content with 
prison life, in his u thorn in the flesh" 
experience. Nor could he have learned 
to be content with the u stripes above 
measure," while he was simply u in la- 
bor more abundant." But in each 
state he learned to be content, not only 
in it, but with it. 

In the variety of his states and cir- 
cumstances, every point of his charac- 
ter was assailed, and on each point as 
it was assailed, there was wrought out 
that which brought him into closer 



21 

fellowship with Christ in his sufferings, 
and a consciousness of such content- 
ment, he would not ask to have it oth- 
erwise — glad to have it so — took pleas- 
ure in it. Had there been left one 
point unassailed, there would have been 
one point which the Holy Spirit could 
not have used as a medium of commu- 
nication to the many struggling souls 
that should follow after. 

In view of it all Paul said: u Be ye 
followers of me, even as I also am of 
Christ. " Dear child of God, as you de- 
sire to be made perfect, be ye therefore 
a follower of Christ, as was his servant 
Paul, and in u whatsoever state" you 
are, there and then, learn to be perfectly 
content. No matter how you came 
there, Paul did not place himself there, 
but in following Christ he found him- 
self in the exigencies which alone could 
prove such a means of grace to him. 



ONWARD STEPPINGS. 

A LAS ! for the abnormal conditions 
^*- which give such poor spiritual 
appetites and weak digestion. Alas? 
for the large class of spiritual babes, 
hanging upon the breast of human 
consolation. I am certain we can 
never appropriate strong meat, until 
we become weaned ; for the affilliative 
forces of our being can never develop, 
until they are called into action. Milk 
and pap make fat babies, and pretty 
ones, who are so winning and sweet 
in their manner as to bring admiration 
from every one. But such have no 
muscle, no maturity of understanding, 
and no power of endurance ; for noth- 
ing has ever come into their dear little 
lives to open channels of strength. 

God has been pleased to take me 
over some pretty rough stepping these 



23 



months past, He has led me over new 
and strange ways. I suppose if we 
were always taken over the same lines 
of travel, we should only be exercised 
on those lines of interior life which are 
involved in our steppings, and that 
would do away with that symmetry of 
character which pertains to wholeness. 
I can see, that, had Christ the Lord, 
left one point of character untouched 
during His walk on earth, that point, 
would be more than a match for some of 
us. When He said : "I have overcome 
the world, n Oh! He meant so much, 
that can never be understood, onlv 
as it becomes due in our steppings. 

I was once walking the street in 
New London, Conn., near the harbor, 
where many vessels of different kinds 
were lying. I noticed one whose name 
was conspicuous for brilliancy. It read 
to me: MARY CARNOLD. I thought 



24 

what a queer name. Mary Carnold, had 
anything but a harmonious sound to 
me. But I kept walking on, until I 
got close enough to see a punctuation 
mark, which made the name on the 
vessel read: MARY C. ARNOLD. 
That solved the problem, and made me 
to see, that a distant view could not 
possibly unfold the finer points which 
were very apparent when we got to 
them. How many fine points in our 
lives, are discernable only as we ap- 
proach them, then, after we have 
learned them at a great cost, how dear 
they are to us. 

When we have dwelt long under the 
shadows of the cross, nothing is half 
so sweet to us as that. No flowers, 
which bloom along the highways of 
life, yield such perfume, as those un- 
der the shades of the cross, so delicate, 
so inspiring. 



SUFFERING WITH HIM. 

"\ T TE are not only members of Christ's 
bodv, but members also of one 
another, and just in proportion as we 
live in Him who is our Head, are we 
one in fellowship and in suffering with 
one another. I see so much virtue now 
in suffering, that I rarely shrink from 
it these times. 

Were not all the different ingredi- 
ents of bitterness put into our cup, and 
it pressed to our lips, till we drink to 
its very dregs, how could we help oth- 
ers in those different phases? The 
Master (humanly speaking), could not 
do it, much less we ; and the closer our 
union with Him, the more it is given 
us to bear the states of others, or in 
other words, pass through the various 
states of suffering which different ones 
are called to experience, not only to the 



26 

end that we may better appreciate the 
conditions of the many, but that we 
ourselves may have the most perfect 
symmetry wrought out in us. And 
that symmetry is #ot complete when 
we come into a state of acquiescence 
even ; but to take pleasure in infirmi- 
ties that the power of Christ may rest 
upon us, is brought about by contin- 
uous sorrow and suffering, after the 
passive acquiescence comes upon us. 

A great sorrow had been on me for 
a long time ; a soul sorrow. Perhaps, 
it was in part born of circumstances. 
Nevertheless, it seemed "my soul was 
exceedingly sorrowful, even unto 
death." I seemed to be living in the 
53rd chapter of Isaiah, more than any 
other phase of the Christ-life. 

Yet in all of my walk with God, I 
was not permitted to ask Him to lift 
it ; but could only accept and endure, as 



27 

did the Master, knowing that through 
this I was brought into diviner fellow- 
ship with Him in His sufferings. 

One day, as I was bowed low under 
the lieavv weight, a sw 7 eet little voice 
spoke to my soul these words: "Can 
ye drink of the cup that I drink of? 
and be baptized with the baptism that 
I am baptized with ? I said : ' ' Yes, Lord, 
with all its bitterness, if Thou wilt 
stand by and uphold me." 

I happened to look into my mirror 
one day, and saw that my visage was 
marred by the great sorrow, more than 
ever before, and the form bowed under 
its weight, and immediately again the 
little undertone whispered: "His vis- 
age was so marred, and His form more 
than the sons of men." He showed 
me that nothing could so mar the vis- 
age and form, as soul sorrow ; and I 
accepted it with all it meant to ine. 



28 

So greatly was I affected physically 
under its pressure, that a heavy trip- 
hammer throbbing was continuously 
in my brain, down the spine and nerve 
centers, till the flesh was wearied with 
its pulsations. 

But I was to endure it, and thereby 
fill up the measure of His sufferings 
left behind, until it seemed that all 
His incarnated life was outlined in my 
soul, and I bowed under its weight, 
but accepted it all. 

Immediately following this, I retired 
under the usual pressure of soul, and 
after enduring the dreadful throbbing 
of nerves of which I spoke, till a late 
hour, I dropped to sleep, and during 
the night, the Lord spoke to me in 
these words : u In walking with Christ 
to God, we walk with Him into God." 
These words sounded strangely sweet 
to me, yet I did not waken till morn- 



2Q 



ing. I then found that something 
had gone out of my life, and something 
had come into it, which still abides. 
That dreadful throbbing was gone, 
and has never returned. Circumstan- 
ces remained unchanged, vet nothing 
hurt me. The smiting of the smiter 
continued, but gave me no pain. The 
words of Professor Upham's immortal 
poem : 

"Smite on, it doth not hurt me now, 
The spear hath lost its edge of pain," 

were repeating themselves in my heart 
constantly. I was held in great soul 
hush. My feet seemed like hinds feet. 
The birds sang sweetly, and all nature 
joyous ; whereas before, all of nature's 
realm seemed a Gethsemane. 

! what power in those mystic 
words spoken to me that night ; and 
my life has been so changed since. 
Every remembrance of it, is like the 



o 







melodv of some far awav sono- as it 
floats through my life. It soothes and 
charms, as only the voice of God can. 



BEAUTY ON THE ASH HEAP. 

TN the Old Dispensation, when a 
• young pigeon, or a turtle-dove was 
brought for a whole burnt offering the 
first thing done, was to pinch off its 
head ; the next, to take away its beauty. 
We are told, that in the East, the 
plumage of the turtle-dove is very 
beautiful ; blue, green and purple com- 
mingled with gold, making it such a 
thing of beaut} 7 , as to be held in great 
admiration. 

But that feature of beauty has to be 
plucked off, and deposited where? On 
the altar? No ; but upon the heap of 
ashes, then carried outside the camp 



3i 
where all refuse matter is deposited. 
First, cast down within the temple, 
then, borne without the camp ! Then 
the cleft body is subjected to the altar 
fires, and it burns u all night unto the 



morning. ' ' 



So of the anti-typical. After having 
arrived at that phase of progress in 
the divine life, where the soul is called 
to present itself as a whole burnt offer- 
ing, the head has soon to come off. 
The soul has to give up its theories 
and preconceived opinions, its reason- 
ings and questionings. Soon again it 
is despoiled of any attractions it may 
have, or seem to have. 

The beautiful plumage, whatever it 
may be, is plucked off, and instead of 
being laid in a very orthodox way up- 
on the altar, and subject to altar fires, 
it is borne, even by human agencies 
outside the camp, amid contumely and 



32 

reproach, and thrown upon the ash heap 
with all that is obnoxious and revolt- 
ing to natural taste and refinement. 

Then, the plain matter-of-fact offer- 
ing, is laid upon. the altar of the tem- 
ple (which temple is the Lord God), 
and subjected to a slow, smouldering 
fire, in silence and in darkness all 
night unto the morning, when it is 
consumed. 

Other worshippers are gratified with 
their brilliantly-lighted altar fires, so 
replete with divine manifestation and 
human admiration. They sing of 
u Beulah Laud" with its blossom and 
song; and of the u Bliss of the Puri- 
fied," etc. , which is all good and sw r eet, 
and perfectly legitimate on that plane. 
But on the beyond line, the decapita- 
ted burnt offering, has not only cast 
down its human reasoning, which has 
in the past so exalted itself against the 



33 
knowledge of God, but it finds itself 
in close fellowship with Christ, in that 
phase of his character spoken of by 
Isaiah, as being " without form and 
comliness, and no beauty that any 
should desire him." 

That same soul had once been as 
greatly admired, perhaps, for its per- 
sonal attractions as any had been. It 
may have had a wide influence in 
church or community, perhaps it pos- 
sessed great brilliancy of mind, or of 
conversational powers, great wealth or 
social standing. But the beautiful 
plumage is gone ! It is reduced to 
great simplicity. In prayer its words 
are few, its petitions prescribed, and 
//^scribed by the Holy Spirit of God, 
for by this time the soul has become a 
worshipper in spirit and in truth, to 
an extent hitherto unknown to itself. 
In dress, in conversation and in gen- 



34 
eral deportment there is great simplic- 
ity manifest, so much so, that it is 
regarded by others as being very 
common-place, and is often shunned 
bv them. Not because they have not 
confidence in its true character, but 
because there is no beauty (according 
to human conception), that any should 
desire it. Its beauty is a thing of the 
past, itself reduced to nothing but ash- 
es, and all together are carried outside 
the camp and there left amid reproach, 
a gazing-stock for men and angels, con- 
sidered as the filth and ofifscouring of 
the world. 

But is there really no beauty? Oh ! 
yes ; for He giveth beauty for ashes, 
and the oil of \oy for mourning. Then 
the King's daughter is all glorious 
within. Then He saith : ' ' Thou art 
all fair my love, there is no spot in 
thee. n O blessed words! How they 



35 
distil heavenly dews upon the soul, till 
it drinks in the balmy air of Heaven 
to its blessed nil ! 



THE HOLOCAUST. 

TN looking over my diary, I find 
-*- something like this: "O my right- 
eous God, how have I withheld from 
thee thy righteous due ! When in my 
heart and spirit I would yield thee per- 
fect homage, the flesh has revolted ; 
sometimes it has involuntarily shrunk 
from fellowship with Christ in his suf- 
ferings. Pity and pardon me, O God, 
and help me now to bring my broken 
gift to the altar, and enter into a cov- 
enant with thee, by sacrifice of the 
whole being. 

That was a long dark night to me. 
I felt its approach as the daylight re- 



36 

ceded little by little from my soul, till 
all was gone, and the darkness was so 
great that not a ray of light was re- 
flected, not a star glimmered upon my 
pathway. I had walked by sight much 
of the time since the autumn of 1867, 
and even in much of my yfeV^-walk, 
the star of hope, had beamed mildly 
through some rifted cloud, and I felt 
its anchor sure. But where was I now. 
The last territory I surveyed was surely 
Beulah land, to which its green pas- 
tures, and still waters, its birds of song\ 
and flowers of beauty, would attest. 
The sunshine was almost perpetual, 
and if perchance it was shut in a little, 
the golden fringed cloud bespoke it 
shining still. True, many handfuls 
of wheat had been gleaned by the lowly 
Ruth. Upon many hearts, and over 
man}' altars was inscribed in letters 
of gold: u Holiness unto the L,ord," 



37 

through the weakest of instrumentali- 
ties, and that not without a spirit of 
labor and travail of soul. But that 
savored more of Gethsemane than 
of Calvarv. 

My case seemed almost a duplicate 
of that of Abraham's, who, when he 
asked God for a test of some matter, 
was told to bring a sacrifice whereby 
he should covenant with him. Abra- 
ham did so, and before the Lord prac- 
tically regarded it, iC Lo, an horror of 
great darkness fell upon him." Then, 
when it pleased the Lord, He explained 
the matter to him in detail. It was in 
the midst of Abraham's faith and obe- 
dience, that darkness closed its impen- 
etrable portals around him, so that the 
whole matter was hidden from his con- 
sciousness. Abraham was tested in his 
obedience, and not in disobedience. 
And where am I? Had I disobeyed 



38 

God? Not consciously. I was obeying 
Him as far as I knew — walking up to 
my best light But I was required to 
offer myself a whole burnt-offerings in 
a sense beyond anything I had ever 
understood before. Not a sin-offering 
— that had been offered and accepted 
previously. But, like Paul, after he 
had reckoned himself dead indeed unto 
sin ; after he could glory in the cross 
of Christ, whereby he was crucified 
unto the world, and the world unto' 
him; self wi th its desires and prefer- 
ences, innocent though they be, still 
existed, and sometimes their voices 
were heard above the still small voice 
of the Beloved. c i Ah, ' ' you say, i ' these 
are so deeply implanted in our natures, 
that we can never get bevond them. ' ' 
But, beloved, give the reins into God's 
hands fully, and see if he does not take 
you beyond them. Consecrate your- 



39 
self to the cross of Christ, in a broader 
and deeper sense, than you ever con- 
ceived of before, and in due time you 
will know something of what Paul 
meant when he said : u I am crucified 
with Christ." To see it written on the 
sacred page presents the dim outline 
of a picture which is only filled with 
the practical details of a consecrated 
life. To understand it is to know it 
experimentally. Sometimes I would 
give audience to reasonings and ques- 
tionings, when simple faith was re- 
quired. In stepping upon an untried 
plank in God's platform, I found my- 
self instantly philosophising and trying 
it a little, before stepping out full 
weight. I always feared fanaticism so 
much, that when God called me to 
travel some unfrequented path, rough 
winding, and obscure; though it were 
drawn in lines of sacred blood, I wxmld 



4o 

stop and look this way and that, to see 
if it were really of the Lord. If so, 
why were not the man}' in whom I had 
confidence as Christians, treading the 
same wav? Always the answer came: 
"What is that to thee? Follow thou 
Me." 

These are but instances of the many, 
which, though not formidable enough 
to offend, are subtle enough to ensnare. 
As I saw them, I cried heartily unto 
the Lord, that He would bring to 
the point of crucifixion, all the truant- 
forces of my being, that every strag- 
lino- element might die the death. A 
burden of prayer came upon me, but 
so circumscribed in its form, that I 
could only pray continually : "Let Thy 
will be done in me perfectly. M I de- 
sired the Divine Will to be perfected 
in me, more than I desired anything 
else. In a quiet hour these significant 



4i 

words interrogated themselves to me : 
u Are ye able to drink of the cnp that 
I shall drink of, and to be baptized 
with the baptism I am baptized with?" 
I said: u Yea, Lord, if thon wilt stand 
by me. ' ' After a little, I lost that spirit 
of prayer. When it became thoroughly 
lodged before heaven's throne, I lost 
sight of it, when lo, a terrible dark- 
ness enshrouded me completely, so 
dense and so strange ; unlike anything 
I ever had before. I seemed like one 
bewildered. I cried nnto the Lord day 
after day, but all was silent. I reached 
out my hand for something wherebv 
to locate myself, but could feel noth- 
ing. Again I cried : u Dear, Lord, what 
does this mean? Where am I? Have I 
grieved thee?" Still darkness and si- 
lence were the only responses. 

I had forgotten that in the Jewish 
economy, the " whole burnt-offering" 



42 

was a night sacrifice, tc burning on the 
altar all nio-ht until mornino-. " Nor 
was it laid npon the altar an undivided 
whole ; the dissecting knife did its 
work first, severing a tie here, and 
piercing a joint there. Ah ! the dis- 
secting knife revealed the necessity of 
the altar fke. Mv flesh writhed, but 
my spirit said : u Keep me till my flesh 
vields to the death." It was not one 
circumstance alone, but several, and 
they seemingly disconnected, which 
God used for fuel to keep up the 
altar fires. 

Weeks passed, and still no answer, 
except an occasional: u Be still, and 
know that I am God." Suffice it to 
say, when at last the day dawned, by 
its grey twilight I began to compre- 
hend my situation, and with it I saw 
that the altar of sacrifice had done its 
work. The voices within were all 



43 
hushed, save one whispering in an 
undertone : 

"As God will, 

And in His hottest fire hold still." 

And I did hold still, for the Beloved 
was there. 

As the flood of sunlight poured in 
upon the earth, I too, was bathing in 
the sea of gladness and brightness; for 
the glory of the Lord filled the temple. 
My place of sacrifice had become sa- 
cred to me. It had become my c ' tryst- 
ing place with the Divine." As I 
walked out from the hallowed place, I 
hungered and thirsted for a more per- 
fect knowledge of God. I said : "My 
God shew me thyself, in thine own 
way, whether by revelation, inspira- 
tion, or thy providences ; only let me 
know more of thee." And so He does. 
Every day, the new unfoldings of His 
lovely character so eclipse everything 



44 

else, as to shut me up with God, in a 
sense hitherto unknown. In everv 
phase of my life, I see but the hand of 
God ; and I breathe the Divine Atmos- 
phere continually. "The Lord is in 
his holy temple ; let all the earth keep 
silence before Him. ' ' 



THE TWO SPONGES. 

\ FEW weeks ago, I prepared two 
■*■*■ sponges to grow small seeds for 
parlor ornaments. I filled the cells 
carefully with the seeds, put each 
sponge in a dish of water, and set 
them away in a cool dark place to ger- 
minate. At the expiration of three 
days and nights, I brought them forth ; 
and one sponge, which was a nice lit- 
tle pyramid of itself, had germinated 
most of its seeds. But one kind, though 



45 
much swollen, had not quite burst 
their shells ; so that sponge had to go 
back to its hiding place for another 
twenty-four hours. 

Sponge No. 2, had sprouted but few 
of its seeds, and its general appear- 
ance was so unpromising, the poor 
thing had to be consigned again to 
darkness for several daws. Watching 
its progress daily, my compassion was 
excited in its behalf, as I saw its ten- 
der blades reaching out so beseeching- 
ly for warmth and light, which I 
would gladly have given them, but 
too much was pending, even to satisfy 
an inherent law of their being. Oth- 
er seeds of importance were in process 
of germination, and needed a dark, 
low temperature, to bring it about ; 
though I feared it might be at the ex- 
pense of those which had already tak- 
en on growth. 



4 6 

I was at length rewarded by seeing 
its little thread-like fibers covering- the 
sponge : yet its different states of 
growth and development were so va- 
ried as to render it too disproportion- 
ate for beauty. 

Sponge No. i, was, meantime, tak- 
ing on such symmetry, that its pyra- 
mid of verdure gave me great delight. 
But, alas ! for its short-lived beauty ; 
too soon its glory diminished ; its lit- 
tle cells were too closely packed to al- 
low expansion of root. Hence its fo- 
liage faded, and to-day I had to clip 
its yellow tops. 

But how with sponge No. 2? Its 
formation was not favorable to early 
developments, hence its frequent sea- 
sons of darkness. But after its condi- 
tion had become adjusted thereto, its 
capacity for growth and maturity was 
far greater than the other. And soon 



47 

its angular points, and disproportion- 
ate growths were superceded by sym- 
metrical, proportionate and luxuriant 
growth, till my minature garden be- 
came one lovely tuft of green. 

While carino- tenderlv for them 
both, I was deeply impressed with the 
fact of two distinct classes of God's 
people. The one class, for some rea- 
son understood in the great legislature 
of the Infinite, is not enshrouded in 
darkness so often, or so lono- ; vet thev 
take on growth, which gives them 
symmetry, in the general sense; and 
are looked upon as the excellent of 
the earth ; and used for various kinds 
of vinevard labor ; but are not chosen 
for out-post service. 

Those of the other class, like Abra- 
ham, even while walking in obedience, 
lo ! an horror of great darkness casts 
its impenetrable folds around them, 



4» 

till not a glimmer of light is seen. 
Those graces which have taken on 
growth, so earnestly long for a more 
congenial atmosphere, but it is denied 
them, till a purpose is effected. Some 
important seeds of divine truth have 
been, perhaps unconsciously, dissemi- 
nated in precious soil ; seed which 
cannot quicken into life, except it die; 
and that dying involves so much. 
But, after it becomes a living princi- 
ple, and strikes the roots, deep in the 
Infinite, its branches take on divine 
foliage, and so hide angular points, 
that God sees greater conformity to 
the Model, the Image of His Son, than 
ever before ; and they have borne 
much fruit to the glorv of God. Then 
they understand the Divine declara- 
tion, U I will lead her into solitude, 
and there will I speak to her heart. ' ' 



MORTIFYING THE FLESH. 

"T3UT if ye through the Spirit do 
^-* mortify the deeds of the body, ye 
shall live, n or in other words, if ye by 
following the Spirit, are led into pha- 
ses which are mortifying to the flesh, 
by letting that mortification work 
death to the flesh, ye shall live the new 
or regenerate life. And this means to 
the follower of Christ on every plane 
of that following, all that he can pos- 
sibly apprehend. It is consecutive in 
its openings to our conceptions, and is 
manifest to us only as we measure up 
to the standard of the manifestation. 

For instance, we may walk in the 
humble consciousness of implicit obe- 
dience, so far as we know, and close 
union with God to-day, while to-mor- 
row or next week, something may 
come into our lives which will bring 



5o 

to the surface that which we did not 
know existed. It has not yet become 
sin to us, for the blood of Jesus Christ 
has, we trust, cleansed us from all sin. 
But some element of the being, ingrain 
and interwoven with the very tissues 
of life, that, without our consent, as- 
serts itself as soon as it is hurt. Now 
comes the test ; shall we allow that 
wounded element to assert its right, 
and vindicate itself? On the natural 
plane your sense of justice would say 
cc yes, and I'll resent it too." But, 
if w r e follow Christ we subject it to 
constant mortification, with all its pain 
(and who ever knew a painless morti- 
fication?) till the conflict ends in death. 
It may be a longer or shorter time in 
dying, as the case may be, but is not 
likely to die a practical death till first 
brought to the surface. It often cul- 
minates with a single act of the soul 



5i 

at last, and sometimes that almost, or 
quite an involuntary act. 

We may be precipitously plunged 
into the valley of humiliation ; its 
steep and rugged declivities may tear 
and hurt so painfully that it seems we 
can never rise again. But that tear- 
ing and hurting is only the mortifying 
of some u deed of the body," or ele- 
ment of the flesh-life ; and we are nev- 
er to rise again on the side upon which 
we went down. We grope our way 
around its damps, chilled and smart- 
ing in our wounded parts. We writhe 
and struggle, trying to pray through 
it. But alas ! it is hot the kind through 
which we can pray, though praying 
greatly helps lis, mortification has set 
in which must end in death. A corn 
of wheat has fallen into the ground, 
abruptly and without our consent, it 
must now die with our consent. 



52 

But, as these tissues of life are both 
voluntary and involuntary, after the 
voluntary forces have yielded up their 
life we must wait patiently, holding 
the mortified parts to the test till, per- 
haps, in a most unth ought of moment 
the involuntary has wheeled into line, 
and the work is done ! Immediately 
there opens up to us the most grateful 
haven of rest, which we did not dream 
could exist in such a rough and rug- 
ged place. We are so hidden in the 
pavilion of God that we could forever 
stay in its chambers of quietness and 
security, enjoying the luxury of its 
downy pillows ; and he permits it for 
a time, when lo ! almost unconscious- 
ly to ourselves, we are taken out of 
those stony depths, which we have 
learned to love so much. And, as we 
rise in the life of God we have left be- 
hind that phase of the flesh life, or 



53 

"deeds of the body" which we morti- 
fled and wucified. But now we live, 
yet not we, but Christ liveth in us, in 
a broader and deeper sense than be- 
fore ; and we walk in a greater "new- 
ness of life" than we could possibly 
have done but for the painful experi- 
ence of mortification and death. 



LIFE OUT OF DEATH. 

TT7E start out in our earlier step- 
^ ^ pings in groups ; all along the 
line are companies with whom we ex- 
change fraternal greetings, and they 
give us much joy and encouragement, 
In due time, as we follow on, our com- 
panions are reduced to "Peter, James, 
and John." But alas! in the fulness 
of time they also fail us. We take 
them along with us into Gethsemane, 
for we so crave human sympathy as we 



54 • 

grapple with some element of the self- 
life, which we once thought innocent 
and legitimate. But "Peter, James, 
and John" fall asleep, while we are 
struggling and sorrowing, and we are 
left to die alone ! for even the Father 
seems to withdraw Himself from us, 
and this needs be, else how could we 
die? for death could not do its work in 
the presence of the Life-giver. But 
the Life-giver can enter the chamber 
of death, where lie the pulseless ele- 
ments of some vital point of our being, 
which has been engaged in the last 
conflict of its life, for it loved not its 
life, even unto death. 

It got into the fire not by taking it- 
self there, but by following the Christ, 
it found itself there; and it dare not re- 
coil, hence it was numbered with "the 
third part which was brought through 
the fire. J ' 



55 

Then follows the quickening as the 
Ivife-giver enters the place of silence ! 
And now we walk forth in "new- 
ness of life," that new life which was 
born of death — that regeneration in 
which the Saviour says if w T e follow 
Him, we shall occupy positions of 
honor in the coining age. 

We formerly spoke of the converted 
man as the regenerate man, which he 
is in its incipience. But the long and 
slow developing process has revealed 
stages in the w T ork of regeneration 
never dreamed of then. 



THE CURRENTS, AND COUNTER- 
CURRENTS OF LIFE. 

~^HE Greeks, also the Hebrews, in- 
deed, all of the Orientals were ac- 
customed to calling all that was vast, 
and to them boundless, the sea. 



56 

And we know the sea, or ocean lias 
its currents and its counter-currents, 
which we sometimes call under-tow, 
meaning an unseen power which car- 
ries back into the ocean, that which is 
brought to the surface. 

Sometimes it comes in on the crest 
of the waves very triumphantly; some- 
times it comes seething and boiling 
with the angry billows, mixed with 
mire and dirt, which is either deposi- 
ted in an unsightly heap upon the 
shore, or is taken by the counter-cur- 
rent back into the ocean. 

A friend of the writer was once bath- 
ing in the ocean, when a strong under- 
current took her out beyond her depth. 
She felt herself going and resisted to the 
extent of her ability, till she found fur- 
ther resistance useless: she then gave 
herself up for the Lord to let her go 
under, or manage the case as He saw 



57 

fit. Just then a propitious wave took 
her shoreward. But not until she had 
gone through the blessed experience 
of yielding up her life in the most lit- 
eral sense. God saw that her work 
was not finished as the events of sub- 
sequent years have proved, for she has 
been greatly used for others, and is at 
the present writing carrying on a great 
work for God. 

There is in us a strong proclivity to 
resist the counter-currents, till we be- 
come wearied with our resistance, not 
always knowing that the very things 
we resist, are those which God designs 
to take us out into His great depths. 

And those refluent tides as they 
surge back into God are laden- 
ed with human ambitious, blighted 
hopes, and broken idols, to which w r e 
have clung^ with all the tenacity of 

O J 

our being. We have said we cannot 



58 

give them up; but an unseen force lias 
overpowered us, and we have gone un- 
der till the currents and counter-cur- 
rents have so blended in God, that we 
could not tell one from the other. 

There came an under-current into 
the life of a beautiful girl, when her 
father told the Lord on his return from 
victory, that whatever came forth from 
the doors of his house to meet hira, 
should surely be the Lord's, and should 
be offered up for a burnt offering. What 
was the father's horror when he was 
met by his only child, his beautiful 
daughter. Painful as it was to them 
both, she accepted the situation with 
all of the fidelity of woman's heart, and 
said: "Let me alone for two months 
that I may go up and down the moun- 
tains and bewail mv virginity," or in 
other words, let me go and bid my com- 
panions good-bye, those with whom I 



59 

have passed my childhood days, those 
with whom I have played, my school- 
mates, my dear girl friends, for I am 
now going into solitude, I am now go- 
ing to minister in the tabernacle all the 
days of my life. While my mates will 
become mothers in Israel, I shall per- 
petuate my virginity within the pre- 
cincts of the tabernacle, and my father's 
family will cease with me. And per- 
haps her sweet young heart had another 
friend who was dearer to her than 
all of her girl friends ; and that one, had 
to be given up, for the plan of God had 
been outlined in the great Council 
Chambers of the Infinite, and must be 
carried out. 

God designed that beautiful girl to 
spend her life in the hallowed calling 
of a vestal virgin in His holy taberna- 
cle, and everthing had to be sacrificed 
for it. 



6o 

He took His own way to bring her 
into the valley of silence, where the 
perfume of censers from the altar of in- 
cense (like the ottar of roses) permeated 
the inner court, dissolving the odors of 
sacrifice from the outer court. 

" And I have seen thoughts in the valley, 
Ah, me ! how my spirit was stirred ! 

And they wear holy veils on their faces, 
Their footsteps can scarcely be heard, 

They pass through the valley like virgins 
Too pure for the touch of a w T ord." 

The grand noble girl did as she de- 
sired, then passed into seclusion for- 
ever. But the daughters of Israel spent 
four days with her every year, and that 
was more than she expected when she 
went into seclusion. 

We sometimes hear Jepthah's vow 
called a "rash" one, but looking at 
the fact that the " Spirit of the Lord" 
came upon him, and, under the inspira- 
tion of that Spirit, he made his vow, 



6i 

we can only see that God wanted the 
lovely maiden to do His work; and 
He brought it about in His own way. 

See the counter-currents as they 
surged into the life of the Master, from 
the wilderness to the cross. In Geth- 
semane when three times He prayed : 
"•If it be possible," but God was silent 
to him, till in His great agony the blood 
stood upon His surface, and He had 
reached the limit of His human possi- 
bilities, when an angel was sent, not to 
comfort, but to strengthen Him for 
more suffering, after which came the 
greatest soul travail ever known, a soul 
travail without which the plan of 
redemption would have been incom- 
plete. A soul travail known to many 
of His saints since to an extent which 
takes away sleep, appetite, and all, till 
it passes off, which it does not do, till it 
has done its work in the plan of God. 



62 

To speak of the refluent tides in the 
life of Paul, Madame Guyon, Fenelon, 
and a host of others, would elaborate 
this article too much. But it is suffi- 
cient to know that they were exceed- 
ingly turbulent, but they so took them 
into the great heart of God as to blend 
into divinest symphonies, which echo 
all down through the ages, in deeper 
and sweeter harmonies, for having 
passed through the discordant strain of 
the counter-currents of life. 



WALKING WITH GOD. 

^pHE desires of a soul on a stretch 
-*" for God, ofttimes outrun its capac- 
ity for taking on the Divine Nature. 
Its yearnings for the perfect are so in- 
tense, it would fain get there, by leaps 
and bounds. But the slower process 



63 
of walking is ordained. ' c Walk before 
Me, and be thou perfect, n was spoken 
to Abraham ; and that life of walking, 
lay along the path of sacrifice and obe- 
dience, involving much that was dear 
to him. 

Could we like the hind, climb to 
higher altitudes by graceful leaps, or 
like the bird of passage, fly across the 
desert, and over the waste of waters to 
our place of destination, we should lose 
all the revenues accruing from the dep- 
rivation, toil and weariness of the dusty 
highway of life, or battling with the 
• treacherous waves of the sea, which 
threaten to engulph, as they lash in 
fury about us. 

Our capacity in the spiritual, as in 
the natural, only takes on expansion 
under pressure. 

God brings to the surface, one thing 
at a time, and that has to be disposed 



6 4 

of, before another is taken up. We 
could no more go through crucifixion 
on all points at once, than could our 
Master, whose long, slow process of 
interior crucifixion, was so hidden 
from human view, that no one knew 
what was going on. But when the 
last great act of exterior crucifixion 
took place, they stood aghast. 

So witli his followers, they are not 
understood while passing through the 
hidden process of death, but when it 
becomes apparent that the work of 
regeneration has been wrought, many 
exclaim, ' ' I want such an experience. " 
But while the point reached is what 
they desire, they are not willing to 
walk the rugged path leading to it. 



« BEAUTY FOR ASHES. " 

TV /TRS. F. D. Gage once spoke before 
-LV**- the Floral Society at Vineland, 
and on the occasion exhibited a beauti- 
ful flower which she said o-rew from a 
heap of ashes. A few years before, her 
son was engineering a portion of South- 
ern territory. Going through the mal- 
arious district so many of his men were 
sick that he thought it best to burn 
over the swamps, woods, &c. He did 
so, and the result was six months of 
continual burning and smouldering, 
slowly, but surely, till apparently the 
life principle was eradicated from soil 
and sub-soil. But after two years of 
desolation and sterility, a little plant 
appeared, developing in time a flower 
so rich in its loveliness, so rare in its 
beauty, as to fill the beholder with ad- 
miration and almost adoration. 



66 

It was submitted to floral experts for 
classification, which proved a problem 
they were unable to solve. They knew 
of no class to which it belonged, nor 
had thev ever seen anything" so beau- 
tifitl, so they were obliged to let it 
stand alone in its beauty. 

So in God's spiritual economy, what 
may be patent to mortal eyes is rich 
foliage, lovely mosses, lichens, &c. , 
but underneath and all around is un- 
seen malaria, and God, the great En- 
gineer, sets in motion a train of cir- 
cumstances, which adds fuel to fire, till 
all Dowser of life seems to be extinct. 
Nothing but a heap of ashes is left, and 
that outside the camp, mixed with re- 
proach and calumny, instead of occu- 
pying a respected position on the Altar 
in the Temple. Even the devout wor- 
shippers cast a look of commisseration 
upon the poor outcast, as in Paul's day, 



6 7 

when he was regarded as the filth and 
off-scouring of the world. That phase 
exists till all promise of anything but 
death and desolation, becomes but a 
spectral relict of the past ! The soul 
thus exercised does not sing: "What 
peaceful hours I once enjoyed," for an 
unseen Hand is laid upon it, and it ac- 
cepts the present, not in exchange for 
the past beauties and glories, as some 
suppose, but in advance of them. 

Then in the right time, there is 
wrought out the conditions favorable to 
the germination of great truth-seeds, so 
hidden that none suspected their exist- 
ence ; and in process of unfolding, there 
appear rare specimens of "Beauty for 
Ashes" which the wise of earth fail to 
classify. It is beyond their apprehen- 
sion, they cannot trace the origin nor 
discern the character. And so, as we go 
through the various processes of evolu- 



68 

tion, we cannot always understand the 
unfoldings in ourselves, or one another; 
hence our inability to judge another's 
experiences. 



PERFECTING OF THE SAINTS. 

TTTHILE the tendency of the pres- 
* ent age is to superficiality, yet 
there are many hungry ones amongst 
the flock of God, but alas ! so few qual- 
ified to feed them. I was much inter- 
ested and profited by a testimony I 
once heard given by a Methodist min- 
ister. It was this : During his term of 
preparation for the work of the min- 
istry, in his early manhood, he was in 
the habit of holding meetings in the 
rural districts, walking long distances 
to preach. One Sunday as he was 
walking along, on his wav to fill an 
appointment, the Lord met him on the 



6 9 

wav, and in a verv unmistakable and 
impressive manner interrogated him as 
to the intent of his life work, to which 
he replied: u Why, Lord that I may 
bring sinners to Thee. M But the Lord 
said: "How about My Sheep?" He 
made answer: U I dont know, Lord; 
I am not qualified to feed them, as I 
am not in advance of them, but as 
Thou hast wrought a work in me, 
which has not been done in the uncon- 
verted, / can help them" But the 
Lord showed him that his mission was 
not accomplished in simply bringing 
sinners to Christ ; an important feature 
in the work was the feeding of the flock 
of God, and that he must become qual- 
ified for that. Just then new light 
dawned upon him, which greatly dis- 
quieted him, and he wished the Lord 
had let him o-o on as he was doino- be- 
fore. Soon, however, his disquietude 



70 

amounted to a distress unbearable, 
for God had lifted the veil, and shown 
him himself as he had never seen 
before ; but he thought he must go on 
and fill his appointment at any rate, 
but he did not go far, his conflict be- 
came so distressing. Seeing a barn in 
the near distance, he went in, and 
shutting the door, went into a manger, 
and there and then gave himself to the 
Lord, in a sense, of which he had no 
conception when he started out. And 
as he did so the glory of the Lord so 
shone around that it dazzled him. 
He did not know how long he had been 
there, but thinking of his appointment, 
started to go out, but such a holy be- 
wilderment was upon him, that he 
could not find the way out, and had to 
go back to his try sting place with the 
Divine, and remained so enraptinGod 
as to take no note of time. 



7i 

At last lie arose again to go, and 
found his way out this time, and borne 
as it were on wings he found himself. 
at his place of meeting, where the 
congregation had been in waiting 
more than an hour. As he entered lie 
simply raised his hands and said: U A11 
hail!" when the people fell like dead 
men all over the house, and others were 
crying for mercy, so he had no preach- 
ing, but spent the whole time in pray- 
ing with souls and seeing them set at 
liberty in God. 

A great revival broke out from that 
time and place, sweeping over all that 
section of country. 

Then with great meekness of spirit 
he remarked, u that all the success 
which had followed his labors was 
traceable under God to the work then 
wrought in him, and had taken on its 
developments since. ' ' 



72 

The minister has since ceased his 
labors, but his works do follow him, 
for he being dead yet speaketh. 

I have many times recalled the beau- 
tiful and impressive manner in which 
he related the occurrence, and have felt 
the specific qualifications needed for 
the specific work to which w T e are 
called. 

If it is simply to bring souls into 
conversion or sanctification, the pre- 
paratory work must precede it. But 
if to take others on through crucifix- 
ions and deaths, into the risen life in 
Christ, thus enabling them to walk in 
greater u newness of life, " than could 
possibly be attained short of those 
"deaths oft," then certainly the qualifi- 
cations and education has to come to us 
through inwrought experiences of our 
own, and God, who has made demand 
and supply such a perfect adjustment, 



73 
brings to those whom He has thus edu- 
cated, plenty of work to do on that 
line. 

In these days spoken of by the 
prophet Daniel, when "many shall be 
purified made white, and tried," there 
are so many of the Lord's chosen ones, 
who are thus purified and made white, 
walking with Him in a very close re- 
lationship, who never expect the pro- 
gramme will be changed, and so when 
the testing comes thev do not know 
what it means, and think they have 
surely gotten away from the Lord, and 
soon begin to cast away their confi- 
dence, and suffer great loss thereby. 

Others, again, who have stood clear 
in their experience of sanctification and 
have been teachers and leaders on that 
line, God in trying to take them up on 
a higher plane, has to take them 
through scenes so new and strange that 



74 

they get confused and bewildered, 
thinking that they have inadvertently 
stepped over on the enemy's ground, 
and he tantalizes and worries them 
until they can in no wise define their 
position, then God in some way puts 
them in communication with some one 
of His who lias traveled over the same 
road and canvassed the same territory, 
and trodden it till weary and footsore. 
There are so many w T e meet who have 
not only surmounted obstacles most 
formidable in their own lives, but who 
have been very helpful to others; when, 
lo! they are suddenly brought to a 
standstill themselves, and in trying: to 
take observations, sun, moon and stars 
have disappeared from the spiritual 
horizon, and they are trying to push 
through with all the fidelity and cour- 
age imaginable, but it is all "dead 
reckoning," with them, and they, too, 



75 

forgetting* that the slow process of 
walking follows the faster one of 
running and mounting uft, are won- 
dering what it all means, and where 
it will end. But God sometimes takes 
a very little thing to tide them over the 
sand-bar where they have stuck so fast. 
Yet, I notice He never lets the little 
thing come until the right time arrives. 
The sand-bar lias clone its work, and 
all that has entered into the seeming 
uncertainties of their state and standing 
had their mission, and when God sees 
that the testings have measured up to 
the necessities of the case, He says: 
11 It is enough, " and the prisoner of 
the Lord goes forth on joyful wing, 
like the moulted eagle, with renewed 
strength, and so on to the end. 



CONCERNING TEMPTATION. 

TN answer to the query: u Do we 
^- ever get beyond temptation in this 
life?" I would say, that what cleans- 
ing fails to do, crucifixion may do. 

While we are walking in the cleans- 
ing, we are dead to sin and sinful self, 
but death to the flesh — the sanctified 
flesh — is quite another thing. So long 
as there is life there is susceptibility of 
appeal to that life. These appeals are, 
what we understand to be temptations. 
They may be appeals to the highest 
and purest elements of our being, but 
if it be not in harmony with the plan 
of God for that element to respond, 
one of two things is inevitable, either 
a conflict must follow every time, or 
the soul must "yield up its life unto 
death, M even the death of the Cross. 
If the latter, there is never again, any 



77 

response to temptation on that point. 
It cost such a soul much to get there, 
many conflicts and victories followed, 
perhaps, for years. But there came a 
time, when that particular element, 
whatever it was, had to die. It was 
some right eye, hand, or foot, but what- 
ever it was, it was dear as life, and, 
when it came to the final throes of the 
death struggle, it seemed as though 
that soul was forsaken of God, and man, 
and in its anguish it cried out: "My 
God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken 
me!" For this kind of death, can 
never ensue, in the conscious Presence 
of the Life-Giver, so he retires, leaving 
the soul to die alone, so far as the con- 
sciousness of His Presence goes. Usu- 
ally this death is followed, shortly, by 
the being "risen with Christ," in a 
sense far beyond anything ever known 
before, and on that point, that soul 



78 

walks in "newness of life" fully, with 
no mixture of the oldness of life ; con- 
sequently, upon that point, there can 
never again be a susceptibility to temp- 
tation, though there still may be upon 

many other points. 

* a. 

I do not think that Christ our Lord 
ever went throuoh temptation but once 
on the same point, for on each point 
He yielded up His life. When He 
reached Gethsemane, that was the 
hardest and last, till He reached the 
crowning act upon the Cross. His 
whole life was one of interior cruci- 
fixion. And when the last phase of 
death, that of exterior crucifixion took 
place, the people stood aghast! little 
dreaming that His whole life had been 
one of interior crucifixion. 

I do not say that these cases are 
frequent in His followers. Alas ! for 
the rarity, and probably, few ever 



79 

readied that perfection, where, on the 
various points of their nature, they 
are beyond temptation. 

True, it is a long, slow process, and 
the Master was thirty years, and more, 
o-oino- through it ; for it only ended in 
the tragic scene of the cross. 

We generally go through but one 

point of crucifixion at a time. So with 

the many points of character we have, 
God has to take us over the various 
lines of travel, to bring into requisition 
the particular traits he wishes us to 
become crucified upon. 

I doubt not the Spirit might save us 
from these points if He so willed, but 
in that case, we could never under- 
stand or appreciate the work wrought. 

We must know what we are to be 
saved from in order to glorify Him, 
and it can only be done as it enters the 
arena of conflict. 

This is a vital subject, and at very 
great cost have I learned the little I 



8o 

know about it. But I do know there 
are depths of the saving power of the 
Gospel never yet reached by the line 
and plummet of finiteness. 



FRUIT BEARING. 

\X7E can only give to others, that 
*" ^ which has been incorporated into 
our own beino- onlv instruct others as 
we ourselves are taught of God. How 
little we know of real soul-travail only 
as the power emanates from the Vine 
to the branch. And how unfitted we 
are to affiliate with the spirit of the 
age, after a few seasons of that soul- 
travail which is so deep that it seals all 
power of utterance, so that no word or 
petition can escape, except in that un- 
formulated manner which seems more 
like incense arising, than something 
more tangible. But it touches God and 
brings blessing to ourselves, as well as 
to those for whom we travailed. 



WITHOUT WISH OR PREFERENCE. 

'T^HE prayer of Jesus (Xuke xxii: 39 
-*■ — 44), that the cup might pass 
from Him, showed, that up to that 
time, He had a little preference, al- 
though it was so deeply imbedded in 
an underlying strata of His being, He 
was unconscious of it until that hour. 
But, no sooner did it come to the sur- 
face than it had to die under the pres- 
sure of obedience to His Father. He 
was then perfected and no farther need 
of His suffering in order to be u made 
perfect, " but just in a condition to go 
through the greatest soul-travail the 
world ever knew. 

An angel was sent, not to comfort 
Him, as many suppose, but to strength- 
en Him for suffering from which He 
no longer shrank, for He had ceased to 
suffer in the flesh-life in the sense of 



82 

having to suffer in order to be perfect- 
ed. So, just in proportion as we have 
ceased to suffer in the flesh where we 
have been called to yield up our life, are 
we qualified to travail in soul for others. 
In passing through death ill any phase 
of the flesh-life we need not to be 
specially strengthened for suffering, 
for the effort to relax our tenacious 
clingings to life cause the suffering. 
And, instead of being strengthened, 
we need to be weakened, as dissolving 
nature has to be before it can die. But, 
after death ensues, we are strength- 
ened to suffer birth-pangs to the end 
that others may be saved. iVnd our 
real soul-travail is measured by our 
flesh-death. 

Christ the Lord yearned after the 
lost race and wept over Jerusalem with 
tenderest love and sorrow T , but no soul- 
travail ever equalled that of Geth- 



83 
semane, because He was never so fully 
perfected before. 

14 And being made perfect He be- 
came the Author of eternal salvation 
unto all that obey Him." Had He 
been made perfect only in part He 
could have saved us onlv so far as He 
had gone. But He, having been per- 
fected up to the last point of prefer- 
ence, even, is able to save us as far as 
He went Himself. And if we u follow 
the L,amb withersoever He goeth" we 
shall know of that u uttermost" salva- 
tion which takes us beyond any wish 
or preference, however innocent or 
legitimate it may be. 



RIGHTLY DIVIDING THE WORD. 

TN order to rightly divide the Word 
^ of the Lord, each phase of truth has 
to be apportioned to its belonging. 



84 

Divine truth is a vast whole, but has 
many parts and phases, and is capable 
of being viewed from different stand- 
points as it becomes due in its revolu- 
tions. All lines of truth are dispensa- 
tional, and when rightlv divided are 
harmonious, but when wrongly, much 
incongruity and confusion follows. 

To apply the Levitical law to the 
antedeluvians, Christ's sermon on the 
mount to those to whom the Law was 
really given, or, the preparing of the 
ark against a watery deluge, to this 
age, would bring the direst confusion. 
And yet each w r ere phases of truth di- 
vinely apportioned to the age in which 
they were due. Each harmonious and 
complete in itself. 

Our Lord's commission to His cho- 
sen ones to preach the Gospel, heal 
the sick, raise the dead, cast out devils, 
etc. , seems to have got strangely mixed 



85 
in the minds of many people and there- 
by so clouded their vision as to pre- 
vent their seeing God's real truth. 
Some say healing the sick and raising 
the dead went hand in hand in the 
Apostle's days, and when one becomes 
obsolete the other does also. That the 
power of raising the dead is no longer 
in the Church, hence healing the sick 
and casting out devils have ceased also, 
and they reject the whole. 

Others say, they are parallel lines of 
truth, and having proved the healing 
of the sick to be not only extant in the 
Church, but a grand and rapidly de- 
veloping truth which is belting the 
globe with its power ; they cannot 
divorce it from the other (the raising 
from the dead), so they try hard to get 
up the faith to call their dead back to 
life again. They pray with strong cry- 
ing and tears, command in the name of 



86 

the Lord Jesus Christ, that death loose 
his icy grasp and let the captive go free. 
Then thev wait and watch for the seal 
to break, the rigid eyes to unclose, and 
the breast to heave with inspirations 
of life. But alas! no such results are ob- 
tained, and disappointed and saddened, 
thev go awav to ask, whv? 

Let us ask, why? In Matt, x: i — 8, 
we read that Jesus called unto Him 
His twelve disciples and commissioned 
them: to preach the kingdom of heaven 
is at hand, to heal the sick, cleanse the 
lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils. 
And to whom were they to go? i4 Not 
into the way of the Gentiles, nor into 
any city of the Samaritans. But go 
rather to the lost sheep of the house 
of Israel." 

In Matt, xi: 5. we see a fulfilment 
of that mission, as was the fact all 
through the Apostolic age. 



8 7 

Iii Luke x. the Lord u appoints 
other seventy.- They were to iC go 
into every city and place whither He, 
Himself would come." What was 
their mission? To preach the king- 
dom of God, heal the sick, and receive 
power to tread on scorpions, etc. But 
nothing- about raising the dead. 

Again, after His resurrection, He 
extended the mission of the eleven, 
viz: — to go into all the world, and 
preach the Gospel to every creature, 
to cast out devils, speak with tongues, 
and heal the sick. Not a w 7 ord about 
raising the dead. 

Now what mav we infer from this? 
Methinks simply this, that which was 
given to the twelve, who were the 
representatives of the New Testament 
priesthood, and for the house of Israel, 
expired with the Apostolic age, ex- 
cepting what was ratified to them when 



88 

their mission was extended after His 
resurrection and that, blended with the 
commission of the seventy is perpe- 
trated down through all ages of the 
Church, and harmonizeth perfectly 
with itself. But raising the dead was 
no part of that extended mission. 

Now and then traditionary or legend- 
ary breezes waft to us a report that 
some time and somewhere a case of 
being raised from the dead has oc- 
curred. But investigation has proven 
it a myth and the best historical schol- 
ars of the age sav that no real case, 
has occurred, since the Apostolic age. 



BLESSINGS OF DARKNESS. 

'"T^HE richest experiences ever dis- 

-*- peused to the soul, are those very 

obscure things which cast nothing but 

a shadow over human wisdom and rea- 






8 9 

son. What lowliness of mind, yea, 
what perfect abnegation, it hath 
wrought in the profoundest depths of 
the soul. We have for weeks been 
passing through some of these laby- 
rinths. 

For a time we could see neither sky 
nor shore ; and we knew something of 
the fight of faith, before we were 
through with it. O how blessed to 
trust God in the dark — and so dark ! 
But the darkness of night brings out 
glorious constellations, which at first 
seem but a milky wav ; but £azin£ 
steadily through the telescope of God's 
Word, what definiteness and what 
magnitude they assume to us. 

The astronomy of God's redemptive 
plan, is far more grand and glorious, 
if I dare to say so much, than that of 
his creative economy, sublime as I ap- 
prehend that to be. In the natural 



90 

world if it were always sunshine earth 
would lose much of its beauty ; its ver- 
dant fields would be sere and vellow. 
Our lovliest fiowers bloom in the dark- 
ness of night. 

So God often brings his people into 
darkness when he wants to speak to 
them. You remember he required a 
sacrifice of Abraham, and while he 
was yet enshrouded in the great dark- 
nesss which had closed into impene- 
trable folds around him, God spoke to 
him, telling him that his seed should 
be u a stranger in a land that was not 

o 

theirs, and they shall serve them; and 
thev shall afflict them four hundred 



years. ' ' 



Then, after giving him the details 
of the matter more fullv, God showed 
his acceptance of the sacrifice, and 
not before. And when the four hund- 
red years w 7 ere up, Moses thought to 



91 

deliver them ; lie made a mistake to 
begin with, and had to be taken down 
into Midian for forty years before he 
could get where God could use him. 

Ah ! those J</zVfz#>z-experiences, what 
a power for good they are to us. Like 
Moses we are taken down from our 
loftiness in the silence of Midi an- life 
and. like Moses too, when God gets 
ready to use us, we are called out. 
We are often premature in our at- 
tempts to fill the plan of God. He 
sometimes outlines to us our work, 
and without waiting for him to give 
the signal we start out, only to see 
that w r e have made a mistake, and then 
we are consigned to the land of Midian 
and in its silence and darkness, learn 
our own ignorance and inefficiency. 
Like Moses we come out of it humbled 
and shorn of our self-sufficiency. 

In the Highlands of Scotland is a 



9 2 

gorge, a deep, dark gorge, so deep and 
narrow that no human foot ever trod 
upon its slimy bottom, and only the 
hiss of the serpent was heard. But 
up its craggy sides were blooming, 
beautiful flowers, far more beautiful 
and fragrant than anything flowering- 
ill the sunlight. 

Travelers often beheld them with 
great admiration, but could devise no 
plan whereby they could be obtained, 
till one day some English gentlemen 
saw them, and were intent upon 
procuring them, but knew of no way 
of so doing, till thev saw in the dis- 
tance a shepherd's hut, whither they 
wended their steps. Upon arriving 
they saw a little boy who, upon being- 
asked if he knew of any means where- 
by they could be obtained, replied : 
"nae, mon, I dinna ken." Whereup- 
on thev asked if he would allow them 



93 
to put a rope around his body and let 
him down to their level that they 
might procure them. 

The little fellow knowing well the 
danger of such an exploit, refused. 
They offered him large sums of money; 
he looked at the money thinking of 
the help it would prove to his father. 
They watched his conflicting emotions 
as they played upon the child's face, 
when, after a time, lie said, I will if 
you will let my father hold the rope. 

But thev said w r e are as strong as 
your father, we will let you down and 
bring you up as safely as your father. 
But, said the little fellow 7 : "my father 
loves me." That was an argument 
thev could not gainsav, so the father 
was called and after adjusting the rope 
the father let him ' tenderly down as 
only a father can do. After procur- 
ing the flowers the child w r as drawn 



94 

up with his little hands full of the 
beautiful flowers, which were given to 
the gentlemen and he received his re- 
ward according to promise. 

And so we are often precipitously 
thrown into the vallev of humiliation, 
into the deep and dark chasm, and 
coining in contact with its craggy 
sides, the heart is rent and the spirit 
wounded. But Father holds the rope 
and lie looks with pitying eyes w T hile 
we are struggling with elements of 
our nature for which we are not re- 
sponsible ; characteristics which came 
with our birth, and which have at- 
tended all of our steps through life. 

But he sees a necessity for our 
yielding up our life on the particular 
point indicated, and w T e must be held 
there till this is accomplished. We 
writhe about and pray for deliverance, 
but it is all so dark and silent. We 



95 

sometimes hear the hiss of the serpent 
and are frightened, but we are kept 
there, till God's plan is accomplished 
in lis. And so we struggle on, and 
suffer on, till we reach the supreme 
moment of our life, then almost with- 
out any conscious act of the soul, the 
struggle ceases and we are at rest, and 
such rest, none can ever know who 
have not passed through a similar ex- 
perience. 

Then how changed the aspect ; 
those rough, craggv sides which gave 
us so much pain and were so revolting 
to us, have become radiant with divine 
life and light and love. Opaque as 
thev were to us when we went down, 
thev have now become such a reflex 
of the Divine as to flash with the bril- 
liancy of the diamond. 

The place has become sweeter to us 
than anv other can be, and we sav, 



9 6 

Father, let me always stav here, hid- 
den away from the strife of tongues, 
for the shadow of the cross is more 
grateful to me than anything else. 
The flowers are more fragrant and 
beautiful than elsewhere. 

But after a little we are taken out 
from this sweet resting place, for God 
lias a new field of labor for us. There 
are other hearts sorrowing who need 
just the lesson we have learned down 
in that sweet place, and we are chosen 
to help them. But we do not come 
up on the side where we made our de- 
scent. We went down on the side of 
suffering humanity, but we come up 
into the resurrected life of Christ as 
never before, and every remembrance 
of this sweet trystiug-place is like liq- 
uid melody floating through the soul. 



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